


In My Dreams, There Are No Monsters

by remuslives23



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, mmom, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslives23/pseuds/remuslives23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Ianto's dreams, there are no monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Dreams, There Are No Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> For lizzledpink for the lover100 prompt: thrust, and the additional prompt of 'Ianto dreams about Jack'. Day Three of mmom.

Ianto Jones moaned softly in his sleep, burrowing his face more deeply into his pillow.

Feather-light kisses down his spine, fingertips trace the curve of his ribs.

He arched his back slightly, sliding his hands under his pillow to close around the edge of the mattress.

A tongue trails along the cleft between his buttocks.

His legs parted, thigh muscles stretching uncomfortably as Ianto pushed back into the phantom touch.

Fingers and tongue open him wide, leaving him wet and empty when they pull away.

He rocked down into the mattress, his swollen cock rubbing against the sheets, pre-come dampening the cotton.

He's on fire as he's breached, a thick cock stretching him, splitting him, as it pushes relentlessly inside. He groans and cants his hips back to meet it, releasing a tremulous breath when taut balls press against his arse.

Fingers tore at his sheets, ripping them from the mattress as he thrust against the bed. His breathing was ragged, his rise from slumber nearly complete.

A rough palm strokes over his shaft as the cock in his arse presses down on his prostate and he writhes and screams as he comes all over those fingers. A matching heat fills him soon after, floods him, spills down his thighs making him feel filthy and dirty and so fucking good.

With a hoarse cry, Ianto woke. He was panting, his heart racing, and he was laying in something damp and sticky. 'Fuck,' he muttered, rolling out of the wet spot and off the bed, grimacing at his stained sheets. He ran a hand through his hair and staggered towards the shower.

Thirty minutes later he was ready to leave, his suit (of armour) falling perfectly on his frame, his bland mask of efficiency firmly in place. He was off to work, to seduce the man who haunted his dreams so he wouldn't discover the monster Ianto was keeping in the basement.

His erotic dream flickered through his head like a film and Ianto squeezed his eyes shut tight against the tears that threatened. His girlfriend was caged in metal, battling for her life, he was deceiving Jack, lying to his team, and all he could think about, dream about, was Jack's cock in his arse.

Maybe the monster wasn't confined to the basement after all.

fin.


End file.
